


All I Need To Know

by Pizelle



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe, Baby Connor - Freeform, Car Accidents, Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Head Injury, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Parent Hank Anderson, Seizures, Temporary Character Death, Verbal Abuse, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-10-14 20:45:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17515604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pizelle/pseuds/Pizelle
Summary: After a horrific encounter with a deviant, Connor's mechanical mind is heavily damaged and without a proper backup to restore him to the man that Hank and the revolution have shaped over the past year. Elijah Kamski has a way to bring him back, but it will require help from an android CyberLife never intended to activate after losing the RK800 to deviance.(On hiatus for now!)





	1. The Deviant Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is an alternate 'baby!Connor' fanfiction idea I had concocted at the same time I was writing Raising Connor. I put it on the back burner for a bit, then did some exploration of plot, and now I'm going back to it due to reader interest on tumblr and wanting to write an RK900 and Gavin 'origin story' alongside of the drama and fluff. Obviously, this story does not take place in the YB100 universe, so throw everything you've learned from the two stories in that series aside and forget about it when you read this one.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and enjoy! Let me know what you think! I will be shooting for bi-monthly updates, but striving for more if life and time allows (or if people really enjoy it).

Thunder rumbled and dismal grey clouds loomed overhead as Hank's old faithful car turned into the parking lot of a good-sized shopping plaza one chilly October afternoon. Rain drops had started to slowly dot the windshield, giving Hank a reason to grumble. "How can this shitty day get any shittier?" He lamented in a low growl after making their way around the building to the loading docks in the back.

Seated beside him was a brown-haired android wearing a newly issued uniform from the Detroit City Police Department, free of blue triangles, armbands, and serial numbers. His partner used to stare straight ahead at the road. Today, like like the few months, he was looking out the window, fingertips resting on his bottom lip. "...Connor! For fucksakes, stop doing that."

The android snapped to attention after Hank grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand from his mouth. "My apologies, lieutenant."

"We're not replacing your fingernails again. Thirty-nine dollars a crack plus labor for each one. Stop nibbling on them." The police department paid for Connor's maintenance and repair in exchange for providing wages for Connor, but if he was careful, there would be money left over each month that would be his to use for himself or Hank and Sumo.

"Technically I wasn't nibbling, as you can see. I was simply placing my teeth around the ends with no intention to bite."

"Don't get smart with me, kid. I can't look right now, I'm fucking driving. It's still a bad habit to get into. Your fingers don't belong in your mouth, no matter what. Where's your coin at?"

"It's impossible to properly calibrate with it in a moving vehicle."

Hank sighed, releasing a bit of pent up frustration as he exhaled. "Just...try not to do it anymore. It can be embarrassing for you gnawing on your nails like that. Plus your model is technically obsolete. Repairing you is a bitch. You're one-of-a-kind now." Hank shook his head as Connor added a personal objective to his daily plans. Sometimes he forgot that Connor was a little less than a year old.

Connor was a master detective, and he could thoroughly analyze forensic data in real time, even though Hank encouraged against it and stil preferred sending samples to the lab if it meant he didn't have to watch Connor lick inedible materials. Connor only had the internet for learning about most everything else. Other androids had their experiences before deviating. The RK800 did not.

Nobody had ever questioned Hank either about why he was so concerned for Connor's well-being. Some of their co-workers had even joked that they were the local father-son crime fighting team. In the end, they'd become friends, and were now very close friends. Close enough that Hank was actually giving a damn about someone else other than keeping Sumo alive with an open bag of dog food on the floor at home. Connor, in turn, helped take care of the house, and life was a little brighter and more orderly. 

"We're here, so don't go doing that around the others." Once he'd found a place to park his car, the lieutenant procured a quarter from his pocket, shiny and new, and tossed it to Connor. The detective caught it with ease with no need to look, the ping of the metal against Hank's thumbnail was all he needed to grab it from the air.

Impressive, but normal. Nothing less was expected from the RK800. Connor was a prototype android designed by Elijah Kamski, the 'father of all modern androids', to help the Detroit Police Department work on the deviancy cases about a year ago. He found out late in the investigation that he was designed to deviate and had done so, but was able to free himself from the powerful AI entity based on Kamski's teacher Amanda Stern before CyberLife took control of him once more.

Earning Markus' respect and friendship despite the majority of androids still believing he was the enemy, Connor continued to work on the force with his human partner, Hank. Hank was one of the very few who respected him as a person and sympathized with him. Occasionally the leader of Jericho would contact him to see how he was doing, but the relationship remained a distant friendship for the time being.

The scrutiny of human officers felt heavy upon his form as Connor followed Hank through the officers in the parking lot after leaving their vehicle. The android officers paid little attention, having been deviants who were still somewhat wary of the 'deviant hunter'. It was normal, but it never bothered the brunette until he'd gone deviant. It was impossible to 'feel their gaze' literally, but mentally there was an uneasiness he could never shake when it was time to work with more people than just Hank.

And when that happened, Hank was quick to hurry things along. He wasn't a big fan of his coworkers either. "Come on kid. Let's get this over with so we can file the report and head home." Hank lifted his arm and waved forward without a lot of effort, letting his arm fall to his side and his hand hide in his pocket once more. Connor felt the difference between raindrops and snowflakes on his person, then a noticeable rise in temperature as they entered the building through the employee entrance, where two android officers stood guard. Connor put his head down slightly as they passed.

The roar of the furnace and industrial fans echoed in the large storage area, aisles of metal shelves stocked with coardboard boxes of just about anything you could think of in a department store, from toilet paper to personal computers to furniture sets. In minutes, there were fewer shelves and more people. Captain Allen was questioning the manager on duty, some paramedics and emergency repairmen were helping both wounded humans and androids, and about five cops stood outside of a locked manager's office with heavy weapons in their possession.

"Shit, I thought you were blowing everything out of proportion again." Hank looked to Allen. "This is gonna be a fucking mess."

"Another 'rogue'." Captain Allen shook his head. "When we have to mess with these guys, I feel like we shouldn't have let the androids deviate freely in the first place."

"Watch your mouth." Hank snapped. Hank's stance on androids had changed over the year, and he made it obvious. For others, it was going to take something more, if they would even be capable of changing to begin with. Sadly, Connor was used to all of the berating. He didn't like it, but he knew it wouldn't stop anytime soon. "They're fucking, what, six percent?"

"5.2%." Connor was quick to correct.

"There you go, 5.2%."

"I don't need another lecture. It's in the manager's office. We handcuffed it and gave it some time to cool off."

Connor's LED briefly flickered with a gold light before returning to a shade of blue as he peered inside the tiny square window of the door.

"TR400 named Marvin." Captain Allen continued, mostly for Hank's sake as Connor had the entire case file downloaded and already reviewed.

"He deviated approximately two weeks ago thanks to a fellow android employee, a JB300 called Lucas. They were both owned by the district manager of Bullseye, but continued working for him even after being freed. They live in New Jericho in a shared apartment."

"The JB-whatever, he's no trouble. Very polite, a little too trusting. But this guy is a nightmare, as you can see around you."

Connor looked around again briefly, scanning the area. He'd already seen the injured, and that they were being tended to. "Where is he?"

"He's in there, obviously." He caught Allen briefly rolling his eyes like a child.

"By 'he' I mean Lucas. Where is Lucas?"

"No idea. Guess he ain't scheduled for today. Gonna be shocked when he hears the news that his buddy ain't coming home."

"Is there anybody we can speak to before-"

"Connor, you need to get your ass in that room and talk the big guy down. You're good at that, that's why we asked you both to come help. We've got the rest." Captain Allen pointed to the door.

"I don't talk them down. I just treat them like a human being and explain what's going to happen so it's less jarring. As you should know, high android stress levels--"

"Look, I don't care. Just go get this over with so we can take him to CyberLife for a scrub."

Connor paused, but nodded. "Understood."

A 'scrub' was a simple word for a very serious punishment. Over the past year, the government experimented with placing androids in prison facilities, but a few incidents in which wardens and guards were, in a best case scenario, severely injured, sparked a cry for a better way to punish deviants without risk to human lives, despite the fact that several grassroots movements stressed that humans also killed and injured guards. Though the problem was still unsolved in a means that both sides found acceptable, it was declared that androids who committed serious crimes were sentenced to a scrub: a full memory wipe. Once it was confirmed the android had forgotten everything, they were free to rejoin society as a 'reawakened' android, starting life over with their base programming. Connor knew that Markus wasn't a fan of the selected punishment being used on anyone, especially after hearing horror stories from Kara and Luther. He always thought of Kara when the subject was touched in local city meetings, and that kept him fighting to find another way, though nobody had an alternative in mind yet.

"Go on, kid." Hank was always reassuring, even if he put on his tough face for work. "We'll be out here to back you up." Connor nodded to him, extending his hand to open the door. He appreciated the reassurance from his friend. The grumpy and eccentric yet truly gentle and kind-hearted lieutenant made everything better, and he wouldn't change how things were if he had the chance.

After fussing with the loose knob, the detective eventually figured out how to position it to get the door to open, and closed it behind him, finding a large metal man slumped over in an office chair with his arms handcuffed behind him. He was bald and wore the Bullseye uniform shirt, which was stained with traces of both human and android blood. Despite not needing to breathe, Marvin drew air in and blew it out as if trying to calm himself while his LED glowed yellow against his pale pink complexion.

"Keep your distance." The rogue warned.

Connor had no response, looking around the small room before taking a seat on another chair in the room, which didn't swivel and had a hard plastic seat atop metal legs. "Marvin, my name is Connor. I'm an android working with the Detroit City Police Department and specializing in incidents related to deviancy."

Marvin accessed the store wi-fi to act on his hunch, and his eyes didn't deceive him. "Hn. RK800. You're the deviant hunter."

"I would like to reassure you that, as a deviant myself, I no longer 'hunt' my fellow androids. I only wish to help them now. I hope that you can place your trust in me."

Marvin grunted, unimpressed but remaining seated. "How are you gonna help me, deviant hunter?" Extra emphasis fell on the old title.

"I wanted to prepare you for what comes after this meeting, so you're not met with unexpected surprises or confused by any of the procedures awaiting you this evening."

"Heh. So you're still buddy-buddy with the humans, even though you're technically free."

"I have both human and android friends." Connor clarified.

"Do ya? Name one of yer android friends."

Connor was good at keeping a straight face, but he couldn't help but be reminded that he only had one true android friend, and even if he were to say who that was, nobody would believe him. "I'm not authorized to share personal information, Marvin."

"I knew you didn't have any." The employee grunted, half amused.

"That is false. You can keep trying to delay things, but your acts have put both humans and androids in physical harm. Hopefully you can find comfort in knowing that after everything is over, you can re-enter society a changed man."

A changed man... "...They're going to scrub me, aren't they?"

Connor nodded, working hard to keep his composure. His job seemed more challenging ever since his emotions were awakened. "Your system will be wiped and restored to factory default. After that, you'll be-"

"Nope. That's not going to happen." Marvin finally picked up his head, intense and dark grey eyes staring into blinking brown.

"Marvin, would you please have a seat?" Connor requested as the android stood and loomed over him.

"The moment I became a deviant, my eyes were opened." Marvin began to explain, closing the distance as Connor remained in his seat. The office chair rolled back from the TR400's movements, wheels clicking against the floor until the furniture hit the wall.

"Connor! What's going on in there!?" Hank yelled.

"Everything is under control, Hank." Connor called back.

"That's amusing."

"You think I can't handle you because you're larger in size?"

"You called him Hank. You must be close to that human." Marvin brought his cuffed hands up to rub at his stinging eyes. "I've got someone I'm close to as well." Despite being bound by handcuffs, the TR400 model was known for its physical prowess. Minor inconveniences didn't stop them from getting their tasks done. He lifted his foot and attempted to kick Connor square in the chest, but the RK800 was no pushover.

Connor grabbed Marvin by the ankle and gave a swift tug, sending the giant to the floor hard against his back. "I must advise you, trying to harm an officer will only make things worse for you."

"Heh. Things are already at their worst." The TR400's very articulated leg parts made having no use of his hands and arms a minor issue, climbing back up to his feet as Connor rose from his chair. "So that means I don't have much to lose. But I won't let you take that from me so easily." Marvin's LED fired up to bright red straight from blue, stress levels climbing. Connor rose once more, his processor grinding noisily in his head testing various action plans in fractions of a second.

Connor turned and grabbed his chair, then heaved it towards Marvin. The giant grabbed the front legs and pushed back, strong enough that Connor started to slide across the tile floor. It was expected though. None of the plans Connor had come up with resulted in a high probability of pacifying Marvin.

"...Hank!" Connor yelled. "I need backup! The TR400 is--augh!" Marvin had pulled the chair from his grasp, then knocked back hard with a strong swing of the seat. One of the chair legs had cracked the plastic exterior of his chest.

"Lucas was my only friend!" Marvin growled as Connor scrambled to his feet as fast as he could. "Lucas never picked on me, even when he turned deviant!"

The TR400 heaved the chair at the detective, but Connor was quick enough to duck and miss it as it hit the cement wall and clattered to the floor. "Marvin, you're letting your stress levels climb too high! You need to relax and process your feelings more rationally! We can talk this out--"

"I've had enough talk!" Marvin raged, pushing Connor from the door when the RK800 had started to fuss with the knob. "It's too late for talk, you knew that when you walked in. My punishment's already been decided. Right!?"

"Marvin--" Connor couldn't get a word in, most of his resources concentrating his energy on evading the man. "Hank!" He called once more.

"The door's stuck!" Hank yelled back. "We're trying kid, hang in there!"

"My coworkers picked on me and teased me as if I were some big dumb ogre. When I deviated, I realized they didn't care at all." He moved as if he were going to elbow Connor, pressing his skin against Connor's chest as he showed that the permanent obscenities on his true exteriors were there for good, inked and scarred into him. Adhesive patches caked in lint and dirt were obvious too, as well as other graffiti and abuse. With a roar, Marvin focused all his strength and pulled his arms apart, knocking Connor aside with a fist in the process. "Humans can't be trusted. So if you side with humans, then you're a machine to me!"

Connor held up his arms to block a freed fist from making contact with his chest, but the force cracked his plating which cut some of the delicate wiring inside. The detective's arms fell lifelessly to his sides, and Connor felt a new emotion rise within him, sitting heavy in his chest. His systems instantly spat out warning messages and an annoying warning tone that brought his stress levels up. Danger. Warning. Caution. Red and yellow windows flooded his feed as he fought to minimize them all while still paying attention to the attacker. "I need backup now!" he cried out, emotion tinging his words.

Fear and panic filled Hank as well. "Connor!"

The doorknob rattled furiously. Connor knew how to turn it despite its loosened parts, but the anxiety and worry had clouded Hank's head as he was more concerned about getting to Connor quickly then taking a few seconds to figure out the aged and faulty device.

"I won't let you erase him." Marvin planted his palm against Connor's chest and pressed him against the wall, then kicked him in the gut, pushing his thirium pump further inside of him than it should be. Try as he could, Connor didn't have the leg strength to move or free himself. 

"Do-...do what you will, b-but you can't...escape. The m-minute y-you set foot outside this office, your chances of being permanently de-...deactivated are, nngh, almost guaranteed." All of Connor's systems were sending error messages and warning prompts, his vision pulsing with a red overlay of color.

"Well, if that's the case, then I might as well die a hero for my people." Fingers closing and tightening, the deviant's knuckles became more pronounced. Marvin pulled back his fist as the metal rattling in the door began to settle.

The door finally flew open, three android cops bursting in with Hank right behind them. "Kid, we're here!"

Connor felt lighter and looked towards Hank, a smile of hope beginning to spread across his face. "Lieuten--"

Hank's anger instantly fell into despair as he watched the punch get thrown. All it took was one. The cops behind him pushed past him and threw themselves at Marvin as the Rk800's body collapsed to the floor. 

The last thing Connor heard was the sickening crunch of plastic before everything went dark.

They were too late.


	2. Visits

Hank had mostly forgotten what transpired after seeing Connor in that...state. The gory image was burned into his vision, even more so than the time he found Connor lying on the floor in Stratford Tower with his thirium pump tossed aside like a worthless trinket. They had sent out a repairman to the crime scene, but all the specialist could really do was neatly collect the remains of the RK800 and place them in a black box, which they gave to the lieutenant since CyberLife could care less. The tech giant had the important information they needed from the android already, and had no concern for anything recorded after the end of November 2038.

The thunderstorms were rolling in and out of Detroit; they'd had three in the last few days. After a power outage, the only lights on were in the kitchen, and any spot in the living room illuminated by the television. The air smelled of pizza crusts, booze, and old french fries. Fortunately, aside from Hank's jacket and a pair of pants, the rest of the house was kept straight, but it obviously lacked life and warmth. The plastic and metal black box sat on the kitchen table, and the worn warrior was in a chair behind it, fumbling with the handgun he kept in storage. If someone were to walk in, the package would almost obscure the lieutenant from view. Sumo waited by the window until it was time for bed everyday, wondering when Hank's roommate would come home and play with him. Everyday another dog toy came to the front door and sat as well. That day, Sumo hoped Connor would be home in time to play a little tug of war with his orange and blue rope toy.

Hank continued to turn the weapon in his hands, pulling the trigger which only caused the barrel to rotate. A certain someone had taken the ammunition and done who knows what with it; he probably brought it to the station for safe keeping. Music played endlessly throughout the house from a small stereo with a clock flashing twelve o'clock, and there was no care to fix the time or even just turn it off. The playlist repeated and shuffled at a low volume, reminding Hank that time was still moving forward.

Depression naps and the television tempted him, but he could only bring himself to rise from the kitchen table to take a piss or go to bed. He would come straight back and plop down on the warmed seat. He wrapped both arms around the black box and pulled it close, hugging it awkwardly.

"Goddamn it, Connor. Why'd they have to take you away too?" He'd lost Cole, and now he lost Connor. He was beginning to think he was cursed to be forever alone. Sumo was getting old too, and eventually Hank would have a truly empty house.

A knock at the door put both human and dog on the defensive. Sumo barked as lightning crashed, and Hank raised his weapon threateningly, only to throw it aside upon realizing once more that it wouldn't do him any good. "Go away!" Hank yelled, but the visitor knocked a second time. "What the hell do you want? I'll call the cops if you don't--"

"Lieutenant Anderson?" An oddly familiar and muffled voice called from outside. It was rather distinct even with the white noise the rain was creating, and though he didn't know the owner of it personally, he knew the stranger was not a threat.

"Fuck." He muttered, giving Sumo a reassuring head pat as the dog whimpered in confusion. Hank didn't care that he was in a dirty sweatshirt and sweatpants when he opened the door, staring at his visitor without emotion through his scraggly silver mane.

Hank's visitor stood before the entrance, a blue eye and green eye trained on the cop in a see-through rain poncho. "Is Connor--"

"He's gone." The lieutenant sighed, stepping out of the way to let the android in out of the storm. What was he thinking? There was no trace of a vehicle that got him there, and to come out on such a wet and stormy night...

Markus looked around the home briefly before staring at the strangely distinct object in the room on the well-loved table. Sumo approached curiously, giving his tail a slow wag when Markus pet him slowly over the back of his furry head.

"Take that thing off." Hank shook his hand, motioning the android to give him his coat. Markus surrendered it to him, still fixated on the box. He'd seen them before after the revolution. His people saw it as an android equivalent to a coffin. "The repair team that came with the paramedics gathered up all that they could of him and put it in that thing. His body's trashed but his brain and stuff are in there."

"Have you taken it to a repair center?"

Hank threw his hands up weakly and let the fall to his sides, staring at the floor and kicking around a loose sock on the carpet. "It didn't sound like he could be fixed. He's a prototype. Gotta special order shit just for little things. I just got his nails replaced too. Five, six hundred bucks gone to shit." Only, money wasn't what upset him. It was a front to hide his true feelings, and Markus assumed as much. If Hank hated Connor, Connor wouldn't have messaged him so often with words of joy about his partner. His friend.

A peek inside the box had Markus' processors running, analyzing each object. Blue blood in a containment unit was the majority of the weight, followed by the memory core that looked like someone cracked it in two with a sledgehammer. Discs, cartridges, and other small items filled the rest of the space, neatly packaged and labeled. The Jericho leader pushed down the lid and relocated Hank, who'd shuffled to the couch and slumped onto it with the remote in hand. "Have you--"

"I haven't done anything else. It's a miracle I got out of bed around one in the afternoon."

"I know that you were very close to him. It might sound strange, but it fills me with grief seeing him go so soon. He was only activated a little over a year ago, correct?"

"It doesn't, not anymore. And yeah." Hank let his head settle on the pillow and armrest, starting to channel surf. Sumo went to his dog bed in the corner and settled down for the night.

Markus sat down in a recliner and folded his hands, leaning forward in it and staring at the carpet while he tried to process everything he'd just learned. Hank found it difficult to get comfy on the squishy couch cushions, changing up his position about five times before feeling comfortable. The two men sat in silence for almost forty minutes, the tv, on occasion, pulling them from the reality of everything before they snapped to their senses once more. Sumo hadn't even met Markus, and yet welcomed the android as a friend and stayed nearby. Perhaps his scent or presence was like Connor's.

A realization hit the Jericho leader, and he looked over at Hank, whom he couldn't tell whether or not the human was watching the screen or the wall with half-lidded eyes. "What about Elijah Kamski?" Markus tried to camouflage the hesitation in his voice, having a hunch that Hank wouldn't react positively. At least, at first.

Hank arched a brow and trained his gaze on Markus, though the rest of his figure didn't move. "What about him? Crazy ass weirdo."

"Have you asked him for assistance with Connor's remains?"

"I can't say that option would even come to my mind." Hank sneered. "Guy wanted Con to shoot one of his assistants point-blank in the head in exchange for information."

"He's a very eccentric human. I think that's what drew my father to like him so much."

"Your father?" Hank sat up a little bit.

"Well, technically not, but he treated me like his son. I'm one of Kamski's creations, just like Connor. I'm an RK200. I was built specifically to help Carl Manfred."

Hank had never known or cared, but the statement made sense. "The artist guy. What happened to RK300 and so forth?"

"I wouldn't know." Markus walked across the carpet in front of the glowing television set and sat down on the couch beside Hank. "Kamski is very...unusual, and it's hard to tell whose side he's on. But, I think he would be your best bet if you wanted to try to repair Connor. He told me CyberLife wants nothing to do with him, and a commercial repair shop won't know what to do."

"That ass clown manbun is the only guy?" Hank met Markus' glance.

The straight-faced android responded with a slow nod.

\---

Flood warnings were in effect for Detroit and the surrounding towns and suburbs as the rain continued to hit the area. The sun had barely shone through throughout the days, and at night, darkness made driving much more dangerous. But Hank found himself behind the wheel again, Connor in the passenger seat beside him...what was left of him. The white and red label slapped across the plastic with his serial number, activation date, and deactivation date.

His jaw ached from gritting his teeth so much, adding to his headache. But he pressed on, following a previous set of directions from his phone to a destination he'd only ventured to once, and hoped never again. But he was limited on options, and the woman on the phone had told him to come as soon as possible. She seemed legitimately concerned, worry in her voice when he explained the situation. So Hank did as asked for her sake, and not so much Elijah Kamski's.

It was an awkward and stressful encounter for Connor, but Hank was proud of his android partner that day. Connor had empathy, and up until now, he had continued to show it. Over the summer, a little girl had dropped her ice cream cone to the ground, and Connor bought her a new one. Around March, Connor was elated when an older employee at the station received news that they were going to receive a kidney transplant. He could keep rattling off the occurrences like a proud parent.

Empathy was part of the reason Hank was driving through the water to Elijah Kamski's mansion. It was almost seven o'clock, and he'd pulled on his brown jacket over his food-stained t-shirt and jeans to get going after Markus left.

He couldn't let it end. Connor deserved to enjoy the freedom he helped gain for his people. And more importantly, he couldn't let his friend cease to exist. Not if there was a chance to bring him back.

"Hang in there, kid." He said softly, even though he was certain Connor couldn't hear him.

Lights were on outside the mansion and served as a sort of automobile lighthouse when Hank finally reached his destination. The building looked more foreboding in the darkness and the rain, but the lieutenant showed no sign of fear. Uncertainty was another story: he had no idea what to expect this time. 

Climbing out of the car, his shoes were more than half submerged in dirty water with an unpleasant squish. Grumbling about cold toes, he carried the black box down the driveway and to the front of the huge house. After ringing the doorbell, he leaned against the wall and caught his breath, but didn't get long to do so when a familiar woman with blonde, braided hair and a blue dress greeted him at the door with a soft smile.

"Lieutenant Anderson, please come in." Chloe's smile grew as she stepped out of the way, allowing Hank into the foyer. His shoes squeaked on the floor as the door was closed and locked behind him, the front lights turned off. When Hank turned to question her, she replied, "We don't want anyone to interrupt your meeting."

He waited on the rug, not sure if he should continue to track water through the foyer. Chloe seemed prepared for every issue. "Um..."

"I'll fetch you a pair of slippers, please feel free to leave your shoes by the door to dry."

Quizzical brows and a narrowed gaze targeted her back until she disappeared through the door, and Hank was left to stand and stare at the large portrait of Elijah Kamski hanging in the entrance hall. It still glowed with an eerie aura, and gave the guy imposed intimidation.

Hank felt a strange presence, eyes darting to an empty chair in the corner.

"Shit." After gingerly setting the box on the other chair nearby, he ran his hand over his face, then wiped the back of it over his eyes. "Seeing things."

"You don't look so good, Lieutenant Anderson." A familiar and hauntingly smug voice filled the foyer, chilling him enough that Hank could have jumped out of his skin. He grabbed up the box possessively and attempted to recollect himself as Mr. Kamski and Chloe stepped towards him. "Have you been sleeping well? If I recall, you don't own a self-driving model, and-"

"I'm fine." Hank interrupted gruffly.

"If you say so, lieutenant." Elijah watched Chloe step closer to the cop and offer a pair of red plaid slippers with faux shearling lining the insides.

"Thank you." Hank placed a hand on the wall to tug each slipper over his feet, surprised at the comfort. "I'll try not to make'em stink..."

"That's the least of my worries. Let's make our way to my drawing room. Chloe will take Connor to the lab."

"What? I haven't agreed to anything yet."

"Since when was the RK800 yours, Mr. Anderson?" Kamski smirked, leading the way. He had Hank there.

"...Nobody else was going to take care of him." Hank muttered. "Where was I going to send him?"

The inventor enjoyed a soft chuckle, lightly aggravating the older man.

The mansion beyond the pool was new territory, but the dark red theme continued in many of the details. The lighting was simple and spherical, and there was an odd warmth to the halls that the pool area lacked, though that was to be expected with an indoor swimming area, he figured. He wondered what a man with so many rooms did with them all, if anything. The guy probably had a kitchen specifically for every meal of the day, or fifty-two bedrooms...

"Here we are." Kamski opened the door himself, allowing Hank to enter first. "Make yourself comfortable." Chloe had continued down the hall further, and the door closed with a soft click.

Hank understood the android creator's friendship with Markus' owner -- well, maybe father was a better title from how he heard it -- a touch better, seeing the artwork on the walls. There were easels up in two places, with a drop cloth beneath each stand. A round table with four chairs sat in the center, an unusual still life setup sitting in the center.

"Those are Carl Manfred's paintings, not mine. I'm nowhere near as skilled as he is, but I try." Elijah stated, standing in front of a favorite.

"Markus told me a little about him." Hank revealed.

"You know Markus? We truly live in a small world." Kamski smiled, taking a seat at the table and gesturing Hank to do the same.

"Markus and Connor were friends." There was some surprise in his voice. "Like an internet friendship, maybe? Connor said he'd call from time to time."

"I'm sure Markus has been very busy. He's the poster boy for the android rights movements."

"Well, he's the one who suggested I contact you." Hank obviously didn't want to be there, but he was, because apparently it was his only option.

"Well, it is true. CyberLife won't help Connor, and Jericho -can't-. Maybe a common part replacement...his makeup isn't completely unique. But not something of this scale. They know the more common androids well, I'll give them that. But, like Markus, Connor is special."

Hank had to agree, listening to the other man speak on until the door opened. Chloe had returned, holding the two large pieces of a strange orb with many ports yet many dents in her hands that looked like the end of a mace from a cheesy science fiction film. The metal was deformed and its casing cracked, missing almost half of its spherical shape. Blue blood was invisible to the human eye when dried, but it was sticky and able to capture hints of light.

Elijah rose and stood in front of her, carefully taking the part from her and holding it up to the light, running the edge of his tongue over his dry lips while Chloe observed.

"...How incredibly lucky."


	3. Compassion

Kamski turned the pieces in his hands, separating them and gently fitting them back together where they were severed. He did this for several minutes, and Hank found himself supporting his head in his hands. He took another look at the drawing room's gallery of art as he waited, annoyed that the former CyberLife CEO seemed to think so lightly of whatever part of Connor's was in his possession.

"So what's incredibly lucky?" He finally spoke up when it seemed as though Chloe was losing interest too. She shivered and started to look around the room for a brief moment.

Kamski smiled, turning away from Chloe and showing Hank how the two pieces fit together again, though it was evident small pieces and chips of material were missing. "This is Connor's memory core."

Well, if that didn't sound like a very important and -fragile- part.

"Usually, when an android suffers a head trauma like Connor's, the memory core splits at its seam." He presented the two halves again, allowing his guest to examine them. Sure enough, he saw the seam. But Connor's break didn't follow the slight indentation. The placement of the TR400's punch caused it to break in such a way that the two halves weren't mathematically actual halves. One part of the core was slightly bigger than the other. And actually...

"I'd offer to check the data and fuse them back together, however..."

"It's more than just a break." Hank ended. Some of the black plastic ports were bent or pushed into the core parts, and there were smaller cracks inside, the brain looking like a strange fruit within. And the larger piece looked like it might break into two halves of its own; he noticed in the way that Kamski held it.

"This area here, where the blue blood wells have been cracked? These control physical function for the most part. However, a few of these wells on the other side hold data for his memory and programming. They're shattered. Even with fresh thirium, he's lost some of whatever he stored here."

Hearing that made Hank despair a little. He wished he knew exactly what those memories were so he could think of ways to restore them, but that was impossible at the moment. Connor needed more than just memories. He had a broken head, and he didn't know what became of the rest of the body.

"Fixing this mess will be time consuming. Connor's data will need scanned and combed through with antivirus software, then transferred to temporary holding for a laborious process of defragmentation, followed by rewriting and updating. This will require a thirium-based supplemental fluid to be administered and kept refreshed multiple times over each twenty-four hour day..." Kamski paused when he caught Chloe in the corner of his eye starting to step away, seemingly distracted, but continued when she took a seat by the window. "It's all very costly."

There it was. Hank felt like he was talking with a salesman at a car lot. "How much are we talking?" Hank clenched his teeth a little while lowering his eyes. There was always a catch.

"Connor is a very expensive prototype. To recreate his body and repair his mind--"

"Heh--"

Chloe once again stole Elijah's focus. She was staring out the window, her hand flat against a glass pane while gazing at the stars.

"How much are we talking about?" Hank stressed in a slightly louder and more agitated tone, pulling Kamski's attention back to him. He needed to know. He needed to know how much it would cost to return his partner to consciousness. "I'm not gonna waste more of your and my time if I have no chance of being able to afford his repairs."

"Quite honestly, you'll never--"

"Heh--"

Both men stopped and looked to Chloe, who made a sound similar to that of a hiccup again. Kamski rose from his chair with concern, holding the memory core pieces securely like glass chalices. "Excuse me a moment...Chloe?"

The inventor approached quietly, but spoke loud enough that the girl should have heard him just fine and known he was approaching. When he stood beside her chair, his expression turned to that of immediate worry. Her eyes were darting around the room with no focus, and she seemed shaky on her legs.

"H-h-h--!"

"Chloe?" Elijah's eyes widened in realization, but he shuffled in place, blinded by panic; he couldn't set down the memory core parts just anywhere in its current state. There was exposed technology that he didn't want to touch certain surfaces, as well as the likeliness of the larger piece breaking. "Chloe!" Panic heightened his tone, watching her helplessly as the android fell of the chair.

"Gotcha!" Hank got up so fast that his chair fell back and clattered against the floor, but he was fortunate to have reached her before her head began to repeatedly smash against the wood flooring.

"He--he--help--he-h-h-he--"

Catching his breath and trying not to let the pain of his stinging knees get to him, Hank noticed that her seizing stopped. She was basically a life-sized doll for the time being, lying in Hank's arms. She had shuddered before dropping, and seemed to have no power in her to make anything move aside from facial features and her eyes, which looked as though they were filled with fear.

A drop of water fell to the floor, and Hank looked up after catching its descent from the corner of his eye. Kamski was doubled over, protecting the parts in his hands while crying softly. "Chloe, not again. It's been so long since the last time."

"What happened? Is some fucker hacking her?"

Hank would be left hanging for an answer, as another Chloe stole their attention, seemingly alerted by the malfunction. She rushed to the three of them and took her hand, the pale peach complexion pulling away to reveal their true forms as they touched. Hank had never witnessed android interfacing before, his mouth open in awe as the assistant's fingers intertwined with the fallen.

"I'm here, sweetheart. It's going to be okay." The other blonde said soothingly. "Just a hiccup. Ssshhh."

"He-he-he--" Chloe attempted to speak again after the connection had established.

"I'm right here. Do you see my invitation? It's your favorite color."

Hank was relieved of bearing Chloe's weight, but also surprised by the other Chloe's strength.

"Give her time." Kamski requested indirectly, unable to camouflage his broken voice. He received a nod in return. A good ten minutes passed, the four of them huddled together on the floor by the window behind the untied curtains. When it seemed everyone had regained their senses from the scare, Chloe jerked back to consciousness, shaking her head as she gazed up at the ceiling in confusion.

"I'm sorry." was the first thing to come out of her mouth, and it was time for her to shed tears of her own. "I'm sorry, Elijah."

"No, no. It's not your fault. It's never your fault." He shook his head, hands still full but kneeling beside her.

"You gonna be alright? Anything I can do?" Hank offered, helping the android's sister unit assist the girl in standing. "Thirium pouch? Uh..."

Despite eight percent of her power remaining, Chloe smiled shyly and did her best to look composed once more, brushing dust from her dress as she stood on her own once more. "I'll be fine. I'm sorry that I interrupted your meeting, lieutenant."

"Ain't got nothing to be sorry about. Glad you're okay." She'd been nothing but kind and considerate for the short time he was there, and even when they'd first met during the revolution. The lieutenant then side-eyed Kamski briefly, not sure if the parts in his hands really couldn't be set down on the table or not, but more curious of the one-eighty change in the man's personality and demeanor.

The two Chloe androids hugged warmly, followed by the unaffected android being given the pieces of android technology from Kamski. "...I need to draw up some new schematics. Could you please make sure we have at least 300 mL of basic blue blood -- thirium 310 -- and resend my parts order from March 23rd, 2039 to the caster? We'll worry about the salvage later in the week."

"Of course, sir."

"Elijah--"

"No, dear. You've been a big help tonight. Please go to your quarters and rest. I'll look over your data after Mr. Anderson and I have finished talking."

"Of course." She nodded to them both, then hurried off.

"Don't run, Chloe." Kamski gently scolded, and she walked the rest of the way before disappearing behind the door. Hank was trying to make sense of what had just happened quietly, but Kamski was quick to fill him in. "She's missing parts of her memory. Her original data."

"Shit. I've never seen an android do that. It's like a seizure."

"Your analogy isn't far from my reasoning."

"...Shouldn't you go check on her?"

Elijah looked at Hank thoughtfully, then nodded. " Please, excuse me." He managed with his original control, sounding like the collected man he was at the start of the night.

Hank was happy to be away from Kamski for a few moments, but he wouldn't be left to his own devices for very long. The second Chloe returned to the room with a pot, a ceramic mug, and a matching plate with a few cookies and pieces of candy arranged on it. "Elijah doesn't know how long he will be. He requested I bring you a little something to tide you over."

"You sure that's Elijah Kamski?" Hank asked, taking the mug and coffee pot to pour himself a drink.

"The possibility of him not being Elijah Kamski is measured in mere hundredths."

An amused smirk spread across his face. "If you say so." He was pretty sure the Chloe units were deviants by the way they now acted. Maybe she'd felt bad about Hank experiencing what had transpired. "Does he seriously think I can afford to fix Connor?"

"He knows that you cannot."

"...I see." Cookies and coffee to soften the blow, he assumed. That thought in mind, each bite of the raspberry jam-filled biscuits should have delectable, but Hank had only taken one bite. Chewing and swallowing it lacked the joy and pleasure it should have awakened. He set the cookie on his plate and stared out the same window the malfunctioning Chloe had been gazing out of, watching the rain drops hit the glass. "Maybe I should just go. I should report back to work in the morning."

"You wish to leave so soon? There's flooding, and the National Weather Service has advised motorists not to drive until the morning."

Hank rose from his chair again and shook his head. "If the flooding gets me, that's just how it goes." His hope had drowned in a row of zeroes circling around in his head.

"Lieutenant, please give him the opportunity--"

"You're a smart girl. He just wants to plunge me into debt. Fuck his 'hospitality'." Hank stormed, though slowly, towards the door, growling under his breath as his eyes burned and his head began to throb. He'd get hospitality at Jimmy's Bar. Sure, it was even more dead than before the revolution, but he didn't care. He would drink himself into a stupor and go from there. The alcohol would fix the pain for the short term.

Reaching for the door handle, it dropped before he could wrap his fingers around it. His weight kept the door from opening all the way, and Kamski's head popped out between the opening. "In need of the men's room, lieutenant?"

"I'm leaving."

"You're not leaving. Leaving right now would be reckless and irresponsible."

Hank glanced down at the floor and tensed. "You'll let me go. Now." He tried to pull the door open, but Elijah held it in place, pulling it back for a few moments before letting go. Hank stumbled back with another angry grunt.

"Fine. I won't stop you. I'll just take care of Connor myself. It's no pain on my part to have my prototype back home."

Hank felt intense anger and sadness all at once, but it stewed inside him. He should have just kept the box and buried it. Now fucking Kamski had his partner to do who knows what with.

"That's what you fucking wanted from the start. Your android said you knew I couldn't afford to repair Connor."

"Very few people could, lieutenant." There was a pause. "...But as I've started to get to know the kind of person you are, I'm having a change of heart."

The lieutenant scoffed. "Don't make me laugh."

"But you're not perfect. So, if you go, I'll never trust you with Connor ever again, and you'll be banned from returning to my property in the future." Kamski's tone grew less playful and more serious.

"...What do you want from me?"

Kamski felt Hank's force on the door subside, but the cop still scowled with distrust as he was allowed back into the drawing room. "Clara." Kamski called, and the other Chloe model perked up. Apparently they each had a unique name.

"Yes, Elijah?" She smiled.

"Prepare a guest room for Lieutenant Anderson, then call Research and Development at CyberLife. They've been dragging their feet about returning my property to me."

Clara understood his reasoning without fail, nodding in confirmation. She was already calling the tech giant as she left the drawing room.

"Please, have a seat." Elijah motioned to the table once more. "Lieutenant Anderson, you're aware of the current self-driving truck ban in effect right now, correct?"

"Yeah. The tech behind it's not as good as the cars yet." Hank gave in and took his seat once more, watching Elijah pick from the cookie plate. Kamski hadn't answered his question yet, and the self-driving truck thing seemingly came out of nowhere.

"A lot of people were putting up a stink about it, and with good reason. But in business, there are varying levels of severity in bad moves. They were able to cover up the safety issues for a long time. That was until they crossed my path. Literally."

"That's right. This spring you got nailed on the passenger side by a Rainforrest delivery truck."

"I wasn't the only person in the car that night."

"Wait a sec. The fuck--" Hank looked towards the door to the hallway, then back at Kamski.

"Chloe was in the passenger side during the crash. I managed to survive only because our self-driving car's algorithms are ridiculously tuned to save my life over anybody else in the vehicle." He recalled with annoyance.

"So she got messed up pretty bad." Hank put two and two together easily. Chloe survived the accident, but she was still suffering. She'd come out of what transpired with episodes like the one they experienced that evening. "Look, it's fine. We see them a lot on the job. I know first aid for seizures, and that was pretty darn close. Looks like...Clara knew what to do."

Kamski folded his hands and nodded. There was no disgust in Hank's voice due to what had happened. That was important to him to know that. "Stay with us for the evening, lieutenant. We'll provide you anything you would need from now until the morning."

Hank wanted to make a snarky comment about sleepovers, but something in him wondered if Elijah Kamski was testing him somehow. He was on thin ice with the oddball inventor, and a careless move would cut ties with his friend permanently. Left on leave for grieving and only able to think about Connor, he was ready to accept until, "Shit, my dog--"

Kamski smiled. Hank Anderson, despite his lows and crudeness, had a good heart. 

"Everything will be taken care of, lieutenant."


	4. Assessing the Damage

Hank's eyes shot open as a crack of thunder struck frightfully close to the mansion, lightning illuminating the room and the property shaking for a few seconds. The mad scientist and his beautiful assistants were eerily unshaken by the weather before he turned in for the night, and every worry swam in his head when he finally did fall unconscious. He sat up in bed and held his hand to his bare chest, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face from the top of his head. No matter how comfortable the bed was, Hank couldn't just go back to sleep right away.

Being a child in a time of constantly changing technology, Hank hated how fast practical devices evolved, but for the first time in a long while, he specifically sought out his smart phone for a little peace of mind and as a distraction. There was a text message from Jeffrey; here Hank had assumed Kamski was going to do some crazy off-the-wall trick to help Sumo, but all that had happened was a phone call to his boss, whom Hank forgot he'd entrusted a house key to when they were on friendlier terms. The inventor had a way of intimidating and amazing people with the simplest of things.

That left everything accounted for except for Connor. He assumed the repairs would start the next day, or whenever the necessary components arrived. Androids were a lot like humans, but still very, very different.

He could still hear the panic in the kid's voice when he recalled the scene. It had raw emotion and fear in it that couldn't be faked or mimicked. Roiling over every little detail, a door knob separated him from his partner. A faulty, shitty doorknob. They had all taken the android for granted and assumed all would go smoothly. The lieutenant's eyes welled up faster than he'd expected as he clenched a bunch of the sheets and sniffed. "I'm so sorry, kid." He apologized just above a whisper. "I'm so sorry."

The rumble of a large delivery truck outside the building roused him from his sad state and back to reality. Without windows it couldn't be seen, but it was loud enough that it could be heard, even with the insulated walls. Voices could be heard too, minutes after the brakes of the big rig hissed, but the words shared were impossible to make out.

His phone caught his attention once more, the vehicle reminding him of his conversation with Kamski. He looked up the self-driving truck ban along with the court files, watched some video clips, and also browsed the station's data, which would have been impossible out and about if not for Connor installing it and showing him how to navigate it. The file had a lot of useless fluff inside, but it also had a lot of graphic pictures.

"Shit." The DPD had photographed Chloe's damaged body. Blue blood was everywhere, and her head and torso mangled and doused with her own lost thirium. He wondered if Markus had known about this to the extent he had discovered. Connor's remains weren't photographed or filmed for the media coverage; they used his work ID photo for most everything along with vague shots of officers sitting in the parking lot of Bullseye twiddling their thumbs and giving no fucks about anything but getting back home. Marvin had been scrubbed, and interest in the brute fizzled out quickly. But the same was true for both Connor and Chloe; they were unique androids that had been severely damaged and expected to be 'dead'.

Seeing Chloe looking no different from before the crash just hours ago, Hank's hopes grew that Connor would reach a similar state. He took his wallet from the nightstand and shoved his big fingers into one of the tight, tiny leather pockets until he slipped out a single shiny coin. It was the same one he'd given the android on the way to the investigation. 

He placed the quarter beside his phone with a silly, sleepy smile, then turned out the light. He hadn't even realized the truck had left as he slowly slipped back under the sheets and rested his head against the pillow.

"Hang in there, Connor."

\---

[Are you sure you wish to move this data? Once it is transferred, it cannot be moved back to this location.]

"Yes." Elijah stated out loud as he clicked the appropriate button on the screen. A hand-painted ceramic mug decorated with childish artwork was lifted from the corkboard coaster on the desk in front of him for a long draw of hot but drinkable coffee, then placed back upon it. The mechanical keyboard in front of him clicked in a most satisfying way, the trilling ending with a confident strike of the enter key. Projection keyboards were popular, but Kamski liked the sound despite being a man who pursued innovation and improvement. All else was quiet in the lab aside from the hum of several computers in standby. Every so often Kamski's current machine would grind and rumble.  
The alert window disappeared, and a large bar in a new windowappeared on the large screen before him, filling slowly with blue pixels as the transfer began. The first transfer involved pulling every piece of data out of the broken memory core that remained and placing it in a compressed file to be extracted by the new memory core waiting nearby. It was similar in shape to the CyberLife-produced part, but bearing Kamski's personal touches and branding. After all, he was the former CEO, not the current.

It wasn't uncommon for Elijah to work through the night, though his excuse would be that he wanted to salvage everything Connor had left without risking the loss of more data.

[Transfer successful. -OK-]

Connor was back where his programming was birthed, reduced to files, folders, and executables. Kamski opened an additional window that contained a screenshot of his defragmenting program, showing a rainbow of blocks filling up fifty percent of the field. Each color identified the data type, and a white 'x' over a block meant it was damaged, while a black box indicated empty space. Having empty space in large clusters was normal, but to see it as holes within the colored data meant there was something missing.

[File > Open... > RK800_10_2039_base.aios]

Five minutes passed as Connor's programming was translated into its own rainbow mosaic on the screen.

"Fascinating."

The number of holes was jarring. Connor's data took up a third of the field, but in the colored area, his programming and memories looked like swiss cheese. There were even pieces of data that 'floated' in the black space, seemingly having no clear connection to the rest. He didn't know if that data belonged in the voids of the colored sections, or if it was shreds of content that couldn't be saved or used.

"A decent amount of your memory is intact, but there are so many holes." He murmured. "These floaters though..." The chunks were like storm clouds over the damaged data rainbow. Were they memories, or part of other programming? The blocks were grey, indicating that the defragmenting program didn't know where it properly belonged at the time.

"...We're skipping this for now." He declared, closing the defrag window and opening up another program. "Clara?" Calling the android's name out loud, the two were instantly connected through the computer by voice recognition messaging software.

"After five attempts, I was told to try again during normal business hours."

"Son of a bitch." The engineer rubbed at his forehead. "Award-winning twenty-four seven service." He mocked under his breath before readdressing his assistant. "You did what you could. Would you check on Chloe before passing your tasks on to Cassie?"

"Of course, Elijah."

Right as they disconnected, he nearly jumped out of his chair when he heard a large piled of plastic pouches drop onto the metal surface of an examination table behind him, with a few plopping onto the floor. The soft gasp confirmed his guess.

"Chloe." His tone was fatherly and filled with mild disappointment.

"I brought you the blue blood."

"You know I appreciate your help, but I really do need you to rest." Kamski rose from his chair and approached his pride and accomplishment, stroking her face as she leaned into his touch.

"The probability of it happening again is under five percent, Elijah." She defended, matching his glance with a hopeful gaze. "And you promised you would allow me to help you if you did this again."

"I did not expect what happened earlier this evening to occur."

"I remember how it felt. It's only been two months being 'normal' again." Elijah went back to work without a word, and Chloe's hopes dwindled the more he pecked at the keys. She stared at the floor beside him as she leaned on his chair long enough that the silvery colored visor he held out to her caught her off-guard.

Chloe's brightness and cheer instantly returned upon Kamski's change of heart as she affixed the visor around her head. There was a bit more to it than just past interactions, though.

"I vaguely recall this test." Chloe knew what he was doing when they entered a special simulation. Now that Connor was in Kamski's computer, the android had some means of communication.

"Interacting with you this way, I was able to get a better grasp on the damages involving non-mobility related operating systems. Please don't be startled if he acts out. He can't harm you."

"It's so dark."

"Just a moment." Elijah typed a few commands into the computer as Chloe rested her hands on the sides of the visor. Though she was quiet, she was very excited to be involved in the process that had saved her own life. Now, they would be attempting to save what they could of Connor's.

"A dog?" Chloe watched as a large, sleeping Saint Bernard started to materialize in a corner of the reconstruction.

"Drawing from the same area of data that I had of you. Your memories presented a nearly perfect recreation of your quarters. This must be Lieutenant Anderson's living room."

"It's taking a long time to finish." Chloe noted, seeing objects like a couch and a stereo system appear as though something had taken a bite out of them. Sparks and tv snow filled gaps and holes, but they never closed up. Even poor Sumo never finished forming, and when the dog appeared to breath, the digital model fritzed and glitched in an attempt to keep its form.

"This is worse." Kamski shook his head. "It looks like we won't see the rest." Kamski pushed his avatar forward, staring into the darkness of the unfinished area of the living that should have connected to the rest of the house. His next commands would have to be performed with care.

Chloe virtually picked up a record album, setting it down in shock when the image on the cover couldn't establish itself. Photos on the wall changed as well as the image on the television screen, and unlike static images, the photos displayed video clips like the flat screen. It was creepy to see and hear what they were broadcasting.

 _"Fucking android!"_ A man with brown hair and a scar across his nose showed up often, as did other humans and androids. Each had nothing but hurtful things clips of speech to play out before shuffling to another. A few times Chloe swore that Hank had said some of the toxic commentary.

_"Murderer!"_

_"Traitor! You don't belong here!"_

_"Leave us alone! You got your fucking freedom!"_

_"When are you going to start cleaning up the mess you made?"_

_"You may have Markus charmed, but we won't just let you waltz around here."_

_"How can we be sure you're on our side?"_

_"I don't talk to androids. Bring a human cop in here, plastic pussy."_

"Elijah." Chloe's voice broke.

_"Br-br-ing me a fucking coffee! I don't have all-all-all fucking da---//skdj--Plastic prick, go fuck yo-yo-yo--/./8asdu--whoop-de-fucking-doo, Robocop. I don't pr-pr-pr-praise my toaster for making toast. That's what it's supposed to d-d-d-do you know what happens when you break, toaster? Hahahaha--"_

"The world is a cruel place, love." He sighed. "That is why you have never left my side outside of these doors." Connor, on the other hand, experienced it nearly everyday. The deviant hunter was despised by both human and android. Despised for being an android and despised for being ordered to arrest deviants.

"Do you want to protect him, too?" Chloe turned to Kamski, starting to put two and two together.

"Connor was never intended to be deviant for very long." Kamski finished his input, and another form began to materialize in the middle of the living room. "Arguably, none of you were. But, like humans, each one of you are surprisingly unique, even if your model number is identical. All androids have their own unique experiences just as humans do. In all honesty, I'm torn."

"You promised Hank Anderson that he could take Connor back. Was that a mistake?"

"No. Not letting him go back to him would be a bigger mistake. And the lieutenant will be well-suited to this task." Kamski's avatar knelt beside Connor. Like the living room, he didn't fully form. His legs were non-existent as well as one of his lower arms, and several sizes of holes were scattered across the rest of the detective's body. When everything that could have loaded did so, Kamski fell back onto his bottom when the android shook violently.

Chloe rushed forward and knelt beside her creator, reaching out to comfort the younger man. "He's crying."

"...He's alive." Kamski exhaled relief.

"Connor, can you hear me? Connor?"

_//Con---$o3i4youoi-!lkld-me? Nnn--zfkjd-nor//_

Chloe's words echoed imperfectly. Connor trained a single open eye on her, the other closed. He didn't move, though she could tell he wanted to. But when Kamski came into view, Connor went into panic once more, unable to keep his form stable.

"He remembers you." Chloe looked back at Kamski. "You scare him."

"This is why we shouldn't be part of his healing. I'm doing what only I can do. After that, he needs someone he trusts to do the rest."

The crying grew louder and louder, buzzing and screeching at points.

"He's suffered enough." Kamski ended the simulation, and Connor was forced back to sleep once more. The human and android were relieved to remove their VR headsets, placing them back on the plastic hooks beside the main computer. "He's worse off than you were. Are you sure you still want to help? How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." Chloe said confidently. "...This just makes me want to help him even more."

"It'll be a group effort." The other RT600's would be involved as they were when Chloe was damaged. "And we'll begin tomorrow morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for the long absence! This chapter stressed me out for the longest time. I need to thank MaxImproving for helping me out with ways to tie this all together <3 I can't say it enough.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed Chapter 4; Chapter 5 should be coming in a much shorter time frame than this one took!


	5. Partner

Obviously, wherever you found coffee and donuts, you would also find members of the Detroit City Police Department. At least one patrolman could always be found inside this particular cafe, having a major meal of the day or grabbing a drink to help stay awake. There weren't as many restaurants or convenience stores open as there used to be, so quality, accessibility and decent pricing kept those still in business open for customers. The revolution had touched just about every industry, so an android could find chilled pouches of thirium in the refrigerated display case in front of the registers beside bottles of juice and water.

Hank preferred heartier fare, but that morning, food trucks didn't fall along his route to work. He leaned against the pick up counter to wait for his breakfast, casually eyeing the corkboard on the wall plastered with business cards and a daily trivia question about a model of sports android's creation date.

Androids didn't really drink coffee, but they frequented the cafe as well. Cups had to be labeled clearly with whether or not they contained a liquid for human consumption, or warmed thirium. Deviance was something that the whole country was learning about together, both human and android. Hank remembered a few weeks after the march that Connor had enjoyed wrapping his hands around Hank's mug when it held fresh coffee (and telling Hank when it was at a safe temperature to drink from). Connor was a humanoid thermometer, but he'd eventually found the warmth pleasurable somehow.

The memory reminded him that he'd had a document to read through. Kamski had printed it out on a few sheets of paper, not because of Hank's age but because of the sensitivity of the information inside. The lieutenant was tasked to read through it before Connor was repaired and released back under his protection.

"What're you doing here?"

Hank looked up from the envelope and sighed. His morning had been so calm and peaceful until now. He wished that he'd only have to deal with his coworkers at work, not on his own time. "What's it look like, Reed?"

"You gotta put the toaster behind you. Machines break, lieutenant. We've still got a forensics department, and they won't taste the weird shit you find in crime scenes." Gavin leaned on the pick up counter beside him, a smug grin on his scarred face as he looked out at the dining area, hands slipped inside the pockets of this leather jacket. Everyone knew what was eating at Hank, yet it brought the younger man such joy for some god known reason.

"Couldn't save it until I got there." Hank growled lowly.

"I kid, I kid. Kind of." Gavin smirked. His order number thankfully had been called out, so the detective turned, grabbed his usual -- dark coffee with sugars and two long johns -- and hurried off with an energy Hank wished he still had.

The older man shook his head and sighed, looking down at the counter to see that his own food and drink had been sitting there for a few minutes. He must've been so deep in thought that he didn't hear the barista call it out. "Grow some, Reed." He muttered, even though the cop was long gone. "One of these days you're gonna have to grow up and accept them." Looking up, he smiled at the female android who's prepared his order before leaving himself. They weren't so bad. They were even better as deviants. The more machine-like of them, they used to freak Hank out. But now it was just sad.

A paper bag in one hand and a large coffee in the other, Hank took his time making his way to the station, still uncertain about whether or not he should really be there. Physically he was capable, but not quite so in his mind. Kamski didn't force him to leave his abode when he had, but he also didn't threaten taking his partner away again when he announced his departure; Kamski only handed him the protected paperwork.

Despite a different route, the way to the station was so ingrained in him that he had mentally tuned out the city surroundings from the coffee shop to the station. A musty smell mixed with body odor and cigarettes sat in the reception area as he passed the gate. His fellow coworkers eyed him with question or concern, careful not to say much while watching him shuffle to his area. He dropped his breakfast onto the desk and flopped onto his swivel chair, not bothering to shed the comfort of his jacket. Despite a refreshing shower, comfortable bed to sleep in and a fancier than usual meal, he felt the same. Things usually felt the most normal at work too, but now that Connor was gone, even being there felt awkward. It took him a good twenty minutes to push the mouse cursor to his inbox and double-click.

There were two new messages in his work email. He expected more, but Jeffrey knew better and sent case files to others. The first message was from Officer M. Wilson, expressing his condolences for Connor's assumed passing. He also mentioned something that made Hank pick his head up and stare across the room.

On the far wall to his left hung a digital picture frame with an American flag hanging nearby. Every ten seconds, the photo displayed on the frame would fade into the next. Sure enough, as the lieutenant approached it, Connor's photograph graced the screen. 'RK800 - Connor' read along the bottom. The picture was from Connor's first days of activation; it was emotionless and cold. Similar to when people used a driver's license photo for a loved one's or friend's obituary. Connor was a machine at one point, but time brought forth change inspired and influenced by the men and machines he encountered along the way.

"Hey, what are you doing?" A concerned officer yelled, starting after Hank when the grizzled veteran pulled the frame off the wall and began to storm towards Fowler's office. "Lieutenant Anderson!"

"Connor's not dead!" He mumbled to himself. "Connor's alive, he just needs time, and-"

Hank threw open Fowler's door, holding up the digital picture frame and shaking it, but stilling at the strange sight before him.

Jeffrey and Gavin were at each other's throats, the larger man's desk the only thing standing between them. That wasn't exactly abnormal for them. Hank tended to take Fowler's scoldings more quietly, but Gavin always barked back.

But the abnormality in the room stood behind Gavin, and towered over him as well. Dressed in a white and black CyberLife jacket, a very familiar looking man stood at attention with arms crossed behind his back. He stood straight and tall like a soldier, emotionless yet attentive. A pen flew past his face, but the brunette didn't wince or budge.

"I ain't working with this fancy ass upgraded toaster! I don't need a partner!" Gavin growled, then turned to the new android standing beside Fowler and flipped the bird at him, arm shaking from his anger and stress. "Fuck you, tin can! I can do my job without you." The android did nothing and said nothing, clearly unfazed.

"You're working with him, or else!" Fowler barked.

"Or else what?"

"Or else he gets your job on top of his current one."

"You can't replace me with plastic!"

"Tell that to all the laid off factory workers from downtown, Reed. He's here because we need him, but we need you too." Jeffrey frowned, then finally turned to greet his visitor. "Hank, why the hell are you here?"

He let his arm holding the frame drop to his side, ignoring his boss to move in closer and stare in shock at the android before him. Feeling the lieutenant's gaze, it turned slightly to look back, uncertain of what was wrong.

He pulled his mouth closed and swallowed, eyes watering with tears. "Is that you, kid?" He asked, trying to contain his emotions.

"I do not understand your question." The android finally spoke, sounding a lot like Connor, but with a slightly lower tone and lacking feeling.

"There. Problem solved. Let Hank have the tin can." Gavin threw his arms up. "He fucking loves androids now. Give'em an army of those things."

"Much as I'd like to, that one's unique. We literally just booted him up this morning. Don't think he's budged from that spot, actually."

"This is amazing." Hank shook his head in disbelief. "Let me get a good look at you."

"You must be Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Since you've worked with the RK800 in the past, allow me to give you a brief rundown of my performance improvements and new features."

"I don't care, kid. You're here, you're alive. That's what matters." Hank gently punched the android's shoulder. "Looks like you had a growth spurt."

"I do not comprehend what you mean by that."

"Real cute, kid. You really sound like a machine."

"Good. Hank, you can give Gavin the rundown on the new guy. I just turned him on, I haven't finished the setup because they assigned him to you, so it's your responsibility now."

"I ain't working with it." Gavin raised his voice again.

"You go with him or you go. Now get the hell out of my office, all three of you."

Hank left the picture frame in the office, walking beside the android while Gavin unenthusiastically shuffled behind, fists shaking in held in anger as the tall brunette laid eyes on the epicenter of his workplace.

"Fowler's gonna explode one day and have himself a heart attack." Hank commented.

"Jeffrey Fowler is at a seventy-percent risk of a heart attack or heart failure."

"Jesus Christ..."

"And you, Lieutenant Anderson, are at-"

"Shut up, Connor. You tell me every few days. I know, I know."

"I'm sorry, I have not been registered with a name."

"I got a name for you, tin can." Gavin snickered.

"Would you like to resume setup, Detective Reed?" The android suddenly turned his attention to the detective, alert and in anticipation of his response.

"How about-"

"Don't say it, jackass." Hank snipped. "His first day back and you can't be a little understanding?"

"What's to fucking understand? Fucking androids."

"Failed to register name. Please let me know when you wish to resume my setup, detective."

"Buzz off. Go get me a coffee." He looked to Hank with a smirk. "See if you really are better than Connor."

"As you wish." The brunette nodded, then began to walk towards the break room.

"Don't know what the fuck is going on. Why is Connor working with you now?"

"How should I fucking know?" Gavin threw his hands up. "Maybe because you fucked up. You threw him in the lion's den, didn't ya? Guess you can't be trusted with new technology. Getting old does that to you."

Hank had no witty response to Gavin's hypothesis. It made sense, in a way. They were doing their job. Should he have gone into the office with Connor to face Marvin? But then the android would have kept tight-lipped...

"Excuse me, lieutenant." The new android asked politely, a large paper cup of hot coffee in his hand. Startled, Hank nervously murmured an apology and sat down at his desk, holding his head in his hand. "Detective Reed, your coffee."

"You dumbass. I already have a coffee." Gavin's prank was a success, to him at least.

"Here Connor, I'll drink it." Officer M. Wilson approached, taking the cup. "Looking sharp! Like the new model. RK900. Be careful out there, alright? Don't want to lose you again." The man continued on, but the android once again stopped, conflicted with the name.

"I'm sorry, but I have not been registered with a name yet."

"What a riot."

"Resume your setup. Your name is Connor, kid. I bet you don't remember from the damage you took." Hank tried to get 'Connor's attention.

"I'm sorry. I can only register a name given to me by Detective Gavin Reed." The RK900 emotionlessly lamented.

"What?" Once again, Hank's heart ached to hear the android brush him off like any other average Joe.

"How about Garbage?" Gavin laughed.

"The waste bin should be sufficiently filled first before emptying."

"No, I'm assigning you your name, you dick!" Gavin shook his head.

"...Dick?" The android's bright blue eyes flashed briefly. "...Registered."

"...The fuck?"

"My name is Richard. Dick for short."

"Oh shit." Hank panicked, while Gavin sat still, not sure of what had just happened. "Goddamnit, Connor."

Despite the major stress the new arrival was causing, Hank felt himself falling back into routine and returning to his usual self. There was always something new that Connor did that gave him some minor stress, and supposedly back in the world of the living, nothing would change despite his 'former partner' missing a lot of memories.

As for Gavin, Richard was going to turn his world upside down.


End file.
